ABT’S NEW NARRATIVE BALLET MAY NOT BE A CRIME,
BUT IT SOMETIMES FEELS LIKE PUNISHMENT
Last night, October 30th, at Koch Theater, American Ballet Theater presented its world premiere of Helen Pickett‘s ballet Crime and Punishment, a production that is at once charming and abstruse (it plays through Sunday). The combination of ballet and literature is often one worth relishing, from John Cranko’s rendition of Onegin to Petipa’s Don Quixote, some of the best ballets originate from musty covers and annotated pages. Given the reliance on Dostoyevsky’s work, I was optimistic Pickett and her co-director James Bonas’s production would impress me. I hoped they would find ways to revive and honor the dark, violent, and soulful world articulated in the iconic book I hold so dear. I was in fact so hopeful, that I sat patiently waiting for inspiration to strike for two whole hours. It did not. Instead, I edged close to it, skirting the outlines of intermittent satisfaction as the dancers of ABT skillfully and desperately convinced me to believe in the worth of the production.
The Company. Photo by Natalia Sánchez.
It’s safe to say that this ballet in its essence is overly ambitious. The mission to whittle down a 600+ page novel into a digestible storyline meant for the proscenium stage is not just impressive in its scope, it’s borderline impossible. The story in itself contains a whole cast of characters with complex architectonics and interwoven storylines that are famously considered difficult to follow. Translating this to an art form void of words proves quite the challenge, so much so that the employment of type-written text serves as a vehicle to deliver narrative clarity. Phrases appear on a scrim above and in front of the dancers, disappearing soon after they are projected, leaving the dancers suspended within whatever the prompt might compel one to imagine as “the plot”. The descriptors are fragmentary phrases hovering above stage right, they reiterate several times per act, only resulting in further confusion rather than clarity. Flashing imagery by Tal Yarden (The pawnbroker and her sister, an ax, Raskolnikov’s father’s pocket watch, snow, etc.) is also utilized and projected on the scrim, imbuing the stage with moody metonymic visuals. Having read the book several times and read the provided synopsis before the performance, the disorientation that arose as the ballet progressed took me by surprise. Flashback scenes and Soutra Gilmour‘s ambiguous sparse scenery via moving wood walls provided little help to clear up confusion. Despite my looming desire to construct the proper narrative (in the name of Dostoyevsky!), the dancing itself was, for the most part, a relief.
Cassandra Trenary in Crime and Punishment. Photo: Kyle Froman.
ABT did not disappoint in the arena of technique as their dancers displayed crisp, dynamic renditions of ballet steps turned contemporary; a movement vocabulary especially flattering on most of the company. The corps de ballet referred to as “Citizens” in the playbill, occupied elevated planes of space as they chîné and pique turned expertly in pairs across the stage, fearlessly propelling themselves forward en pointe. The Citizens displayed raucous united discourse during scenes at the bar, reveling in the nearly comic rendition of hazy debauchery, entangled in varied conversations around the stage. These large groupings coalesce only to promptly disperse as soon as Principal dancer Cassandra Trenary, portraying the protagonist Raskolnikov (a gender-bent casting decision made by Pickett and Bonas) appears. She occupies much of the ballet in an expansive fourth position plié, her arched back and dramatically released head as expressive as ever. Trenary’s feet are nimble and suggestive as they turn inwards at almost ninety degrees. Their extreme angularity is endearing and sweet as she crumples to the ground, collecting her limbs to her chest, with her back against one of the several mobile wooden walls. These quiet moments of stillness, ones turned in and alone, spotlight Raskolnikov’s lack of composure, and his disoriented struggle, just as the text suggests. Pickett in these instances showcases a true sensitivity towards Raskolnikov’s character; she is adamant his humanity is spotlighted through fervent outstretched palms and limbs that shoot towards the sky with brash intensity. Trenary artfully articulates Raskolnikov as a murderous helpless boy rather than a skeevy criminal. The same cannot be said for Svidrigailov, danced by James Whiteside, who prowls the stage with sinister swagger. The sleazebag is such a skilled mover his malice veers into something almost jocular. He cabrioles, soaring high into the air, his legs like daggers, bounding down to the ground where he resumes his blustering manipulation of Dunya.
Cassandra Trenary. Photo by Natalia Sánchez.
Dunya and Razumikhin, danced by Christine Shevchenko and Calvin Royal III respectively, occupy the stage. Their pas de deux exuded a moralistic simplicity. Goodness is made visible through their pristine almost-classical MacMillanesque steps. Royal III is a dazzling force, complete with serene showmanship and airy double tours. Shevchenko radiates under Jennifer Tipton‘s bleak lighting with lithe sparkling grace. The duo appear as if underwater, their bodies gliding along to the score by Isobel Waller-Bridge, sister of actor Phoebe Waller-Bridge. Chimes and string instruments ring out tones of whimsy and mischief, sometimes so childlike they contrast the dark nature of bloodshed and grief that adorn the narrative.
Christine Shevchenko and Calvin Royal III in Crime and Punishment. Photo: Kyle Froman.
That being said, death plays a large role in the story and is tough to articulate tastefully on stage, a truth evident in many scenes. The balance between horror and symbolism is nowhere to be found in this production, resulting in stilted schematic portrayals of not just murder and suicide but natural passing. The death of the pawnbroker and her sister Liziveta is hardly nuanced due to images of blood splatter and the gasping wide-eyed older women momentarily projected on the scrim, while Trenary mimes an ax murder six feet away from a supine body behind her. We can assume this to be the pawnbroker. Katerina, danced by Claire Davidson, stumbles en pointe coughing and gasping for her last breath for far too long, and Marmeladov’s death is made evident through breathing that is blasted throughout the theater serving as a disturbing soundscape. As the shock factor subsides an impatience arises within me. These characters were granted substantive death scenes and very little dancing time or development. This imbalance resonates as unjust and narratively stunted, the same applies to Porfiry danced masterfully by Thomas Forster.
This cycle of tenderness followed by a test of voyeuristic endurance trails throughout the production ’¦ perhaps an attempt to mimic Dostoyevsky’s work, but I cannot be certain. With this in mind, I felt somewhat deflated leaving the theater, feeling as though I hadn’t seen the real show, that maybe I’d only watched a rehearsal. Alas, I did not.
Crime and Punishment
world premiere by Helen Pickett
American Ballet Theatre
David H. Koch Theatre, Lincoln Center
ends on November 3, 2024
for tickets, call 212.496.0600 or visit ABT
